Not Us
by trunks111
Summary: Stan. Warnings: Dark themes, character death. It could never happen to us. It never will. But then it did. And we're scrambling for answers and what to do. I should care, I should feel. I'm a realist. Sue me.
1. Chapter 1

It was a tuesday night. No real different from any other. Until I got a call. I was playing video games, in a party with Kyle, Cartman, and Kenny. I was streaming my game, not that anyone was watching the stream. I popped one ear bud out of my ear and picked the phone up, sliding the answer button.

"Yeah?"

"It's mom, she's collapsed!" It was Shelly, she sounded panicked.

"O-kay," I responded, the news didn't really shock me or anything.

Shelly disconnected and I put the phone down and went back to my game and friends. I played peacefully for another five to ten minutes before my phone rang again, it was Shelly.

I popped an earbud out again and picked up.

"They're taking her to Hell's Pass, do you want to go?" She spoke quickly, I could hear her worry.

"Uh..., yeah," I replied with a sigh.

"I'll be there in like fifteen," she disconnected again.

With another sigh, I popped my ear bud back in one more time.  
"I gotta go guys, mom collapsed or something, she's going to Hell's Pass. I'll talk to you guys later."

"Okay man," Kenny replied, his voice sounding a little concerned.

"Are you driving?" Kyle asked.

"Nah, Shelly is coming to get me."

"Okay."

With that I saved my game and turned everything off. I set the controller on my bed and then found my shoes and grabbed an extra plug piece. Everything else I needed was already in my pockets. I wandered out to the sheltered area by the parking lot, waiting for my sister. She pulled up minutes later, idling and waiting for me to get in. I jogged over, hopping in the passenger seat, getting my seatbelt on as she peeled out of the lot and back on the highway. Shelly was beyond worried, making calls to mom's friends and our relatives while she drove. I didn't feel any particular way.

We arrived at the ER and were directed to a "family room". We sat there in silence as various family members showed up. A chaplin eventually showed up and offered condolences. We still weren't told how our mom was or anything. An hour or more later, a doctor finally approached us.

"We have finally achieved a stable heart beat. She seems to have had a massive heart attack. Her brain was without sufficient oxygen for about an hour."

Shelly looked crushed, various others were crying, all the while I didn't feel anything.

"She received CPR for forty-five minutes. We'll be moving her to the ICU."

And so, another roughly thirty minutes later, we were all shuffled upstairs to the ICU. We weren't permitted to see her for a while still. Doctors came and updated everyone though.  
"We're trying to get her temperature down and remove the acid that has accumulated, we're also going to try to get her electrolytes up."

I sat with everyone most of the night, eventually though I had Shelly drive me back to campus. I got a few hours sleep before driving back up there. I was bored out of my mind wednesday. We were told her brain showed lack of oxygen for 30-45 minutes. So, logically speaking, that meant she was fucked.  
I still didn't feel anything.

The rest of the family however, was losing their respective shits. We were made to go to the waiting room while they conducted an EEG. About an hour later, the primary doctor came out and confirmed what I already knew. She is experiencing kidney failure. Respiratory is failing as well. The CAT scan indicated swelling in the brain and that she has significant brain damage. She was without significant oxygen to her brain for roughly 60 minutes. She is not reacting to pain, gag reflex, pupils are unresponsive, and she's not coughing. Her primitive reactions are nonexistent. The doctor _thinks_ she has experienced brain death. As of now, they haven't conducted the EKG.  
An hour later, as we sat in the room with her, the Neurologist told us if the test shows what he thinks it will, he'll just come back and share the results tomorrow, if there's anything different though, he would be back later today.

I still don't feel anything. I'm bored and tired of sitting at the hospital though. I had to leave class early, thankfully, she didn't assign homework to us. I'm about to go back to campus, I'm tired of sitting here. I've texted Kenny and Kyle about things though.

I'm going to go get Kyle from Stanford, he got a full ride scholarship. He's going to miss one class, which from him, is a lot. It's gonna be a hell of a drive, but he's my best friend and wants to be there for me. Which I understand.  
I'm just sick of everyone acting like I'm not okay. I get it, she's my mom, but I've accepted what more than likely is. Get over it guys.

They keep bringing religion into it. I was raised Catholic, yeah, but around age ten or so, I started looking into religion for myself. I lost a lot of what I did believe in however, anymore I just exist. I was pagan, strongly, for many years. Now though, I'm nihilistic. Everything is what it is. We can't fix her. No god can either. Everyone is sad as fuck though, and convinced she's gonna be fine. I'm sick of their bullshit. All this time around people is making me angry. But I _have_ to be there. I'm her only son. I'm just tired of them not accepting what is more than likely true. Look at science, look at logic. Just look dude. But they won't. They refuse.  
And I'm getting even more annoyed.

I'm getting Kyle tomorrow, for now, I'm going to relax and play or watch something.


	2. Chapter 2

A few more days have passed. Nothing's changed with mom's condition. The Neurologist however, has finally spoken to us. He took us all into a little room and shut the door.

"She is not technically brain dead. There is still some brain stem activity. But there has been significant cortex damage."

A few family members had questions, but I had none. Some people were on the verge of tears, I still felt nothing.  
We all went back into the waiting room. And so I went to the texting of Kyle, Kenny, and a couple others.

"She's not technically brain dead, there's still some brain stem activity, but there has been significant cortex damage. The part of the brain that makes her "her". Chances are if she does wake, it won't be her. But there is large evidence that she won't wake at all. We are about to start a 48 hour period where everyone can come see her or if anyone changes their mind about what comes next, they may. We have decided as a family to discontinue life support after the 48 hour period."

With that sent, I stuck around while Shelly signed a few papers regarding mom and our decision. I stayed for another hour, doing some school work, before leaving to get Kyle.  
The drive was pretty quiet, he already knew everything. We immediately went to the hospital once we got to South Park. We went back to see her. The rest of the family was there. We stood awkwardly, I was only there really because I had to be, and Kyle because he was my best friend. I spoke with Shelly as Kyle was drawn into conversation with my other family members.

It was uneventful. Eventually, we left the hospital and went back to my old house. A few of my things were still there, so we camped in my old bedroom. I got us sodas from downstairs and we played the old Okama gamesphere.  
Kyle didn't press me about my mom, and for that I was grateful. He knew what I thought. I think part of him still thinks I'm in shock or something because I'm so unaffected.  
Fact is, I'm 22. She's my mom, yeah, we had a decent relationship, but it is what it is. I've made my peace with it. Everyone else however, has not. They continue to hope and pray and shit like that. I'm over it. I hate spending time at the hospital. I could be doing other things. I mean, I'm caught up on all my school work, so I could be gaming on xbox with the guys. I could be not sitting there, bored off my ass.

After a while, I found the old xbox 360 and hook it up downstairs. We play guitar hero for a few hours. Eventually though, we go to sleep because I have class early. The drive to class is tedious but class is moderately interesting, though about half way through I pull out my little tablet and fuck around on it. I pay attention enough to know what's going on, but I don't really care about that class.

I pick up Kyle before going to the hospital again. I've gotta do a few school work things, so we sit out in the waiting room and I do my work while he plays on his phone. It's an overall boring time. Once I finish my school work though, we venture back to her room. Hospital staff hover as the family converses and speak to mom.

I always thought Shelly was above the bullshit they're all doing. I guess I was wrong. She partakes when they pray. She talks to mom like she's gonna wake up and be fine.  
I'm so over it. I'm over everything. I'm fucking done. I leave the hospital shortly after, driving to Kyle's parents'. They wanted to see him, as it's been a while since he's been down. We update Kyle's mom on my mom's condition and she says she's going to pray for her. I smile politely, but don't comment. We leave after a couple hours, walking to my house. We flop on the couch at separate ends, trying to decide what we want for food.

"I'm broke," I tell him.

"Fuck, me too."

"I technically have a few dollars though," I mumble, checking my bank account with the app on my phone.

"I haven't had fast food in ages," he comments.

"Taco bell?" I ask, craving their delicious burritos.

"Dude, yes."

And with that, we drive to the nearest Taco Bell. I order our food and pay, sitting down and waiting for it to be ready. We talk about Kyle's life, his studies and his long time boyfriend, Jace.

"You guys gonna get married?" I ask.

"Yeah..., in a few years. I want to have my bachelor's first."

Kyle was smart, he went to college right after high school. I didn't, I waited until last year to start. I was working various jobs and things, I hadn't figured out what I wanted to do yet. I'm still kind of unsure, but I have a better idea.

The worker calls Kyle's name and he leaves to get the food. When he returns we don't talk much, eating in relative silence. We order a second round, and talk some more as we wait for the next batch to be ready.

"How is your partner?" Kyle asks.

"Partners," I correct, "They're good. They're sympathetic but they didn't know mom, so it's whatever."

"Ah," he nods before going to get the food.

We eat in relative silence after that, the drive back also being quiet, but it's not uncomfortable. We watch a mindless cartoon for a few hours before going to bed.


	3. Chapter 3

The day has come. The day we unplug mom's stuff. Just a few hours away. I lay awake beside Kyle, he's still asleep. I gaze up at the ceiling. I don't feel anything still. I said what I needed to say to mom yesterday. I doubt she heard me. She's gone, in my opinion. She was gone tuesday, after it happened. I could be wrong, but given all we've been told, I know I'm not. I looked into her eyes when I spoke to her. They're different. They've been different, but this time I got a close up look of them. She's not there. I know I should feel something, but I don't.

The only person that died that I actually cared about, was someone I never knew personally, and that was Chester Bennington, of Linkin Park, a band I grew up listening to. I still listen to their stuff, but I have no idea if they're going to continue making music. I cried for Chester, but for my mom? For my grandpa? Nah. I'm fine. Grandpa died around grade 8. I only missed a day of school because I was sick, not because I was in mourning over him. His death didn't affect me.

Finally, I get up and change my shirt, putting on deodorant. I go downstairs to grab some breakfast. Kyle comes down as I'm making myself some grits.

"Want some?" I offer, my back to him.

"Mm," he mumbles, I hear him take a seat in the kitchen chair.

I put the bowl I'm currently working on in the microwave and get out another bowl. I give him the first bowl and then make the second. He shuffles around the kitchen to fix his as he likes them and I wait for the microwave to finish. After it does, I take it out and add a generous amount of sugar. He wrinkles his nose at me but doesn't comment. We eat breakfast in silence and then wash our respective dishes. He goes back upstairs to get dressed and I follow but to the bathroom.  
By the time I finish, he's ready to go.  
The drive is punctuated by music from my new Hollywood Undead cd. When we get there, the people that wanted to be there, are. A woman from hospice comes and talks to us, taking us to the waiting room so she can be heard better. I refrain from rolling my eyes and just listen in boredom. Finally though, we go back to her room. Nurses are in and out, aware that we're ready to pull the plug. Slowly, things are turned off and away. I am made to stand next to mom on the bed, I'm urged to put a hand on her and so I do. A chaplain comes in and prays before anything is removed. I resist the urge to roll my eyes again and wait for her to finish.  
The tubes are removed. Nothing appears to have changed. We wait two hours, and still her body lives. It sounds as though she's merely asleep and the family talks to her as if she is just sleeping. I roll my eyes at them and leave at the earliest opportunity. Hospice will be around to take her to their facility today. I have no idea how those things work. I'm hungry however and so is Kyle.  
So we leave, in search of food from the house. There isn't much but we make do.

We play video games for a few hours before watching more mindless cartoons before bed.

In the morning, I still don't feel anything. Class bores me, but there's a homework assignment to do. I do it as I sit there in class. I'll have to print it out and shit like that, but otherwise it's done. I know I have to go to see her in hospice, but I really don't want to. It's not like it will change anything if I'm there or not. Nothing's going to change what is.

Another day passes. She's still in hospice. Doing fine, mostly. One lung however, isn't doing well and so they can't turn her on her right side. So. Things are progressing downhill more or less. She is more or less stable however. In my opinion, it's just a matter of time when her shell expires. Why it's taking so long, I have no idea. She, Sharon, my mother, is gone. There's no escaping that fact. Despite everyone who protests and claims she's going to wake up and be fine.

I keep my mouth shut around the family. Last time I spoke up and gave my opinion, I got treated like a fucking piraha. I'm not fucking dealing with their bullshit again. I know what I believe. If I'm wrong, _good_ , if not, as usual, fine. It is what it is. I'm sick of it. No one is moving forward. They're stuck because they think she's in limbo herself. They want her to wake up and be fine. They're fucking idealists. And I'm a fucking realist. It's infuriating anymore. I want to be alone. I'm just tired of being around people.  
Kyle is great, of course, but I want to be alone. I need my solitude. Being around people so often is giving me a fucking headache. Being alone is better. At least then I can choose who I'm talking to. I can choose to talk to Kyle, Kenny, or Cartman. Or anyone else. I'm not forced to interact with people I don't give two shits about and that don't give two shits about me.

Gods, when I told Kyle about mom he was like "Don't do anything stupid."  
Because I've been suicidal. I am suicidal. But I was just like "Of course not, I don't care." Stressing the fact that I don't care. But as usual, I'm not believed.

It's annoying though. I know what I feel. And it's not a damn thing. I want to be alone because I'm a solitary person. I want to drink because I like the taste of the alcohol I buy. I want to game because it's fun, in some games, I'm trying to experience a particular element of the game that I haven't before. I want to get through school so I can get on with the next phase of school.

I just want things to move, everyone is stuck because she appears to be still living. Because her body is continuing.  
I'm just done.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Thanks reviewer for mentioning Randy, I completely forgot to add that part, I thought about it ages ago, like I've been meaning to write this for almost two weeks, and with everything, it just got lost. Again, thank you. It's a moderate piece of info for the story's base.**

* * *

You'd think Dad would have shown up or something by now. It's a small town, he hasn't moved out of South Park, that I know of. He's probably too drunk to make sense of what people tell him though. Idiot. He and mom finally got divorced when I was around ten or eleven. The years kind of blur together. I, along with most of South Park, had been expecting it. They fought all the time. Things were tight financially for a while, but we managed. Dad tried to be around for a little while, but eventually he gave up. I, at least, I can't speak for Shelly, saw through his bullshit. And I called him on it, and he stopped trying.  
Still, if he ever loved her or even if he cared about her, he could at least make the effort to be sober, to be here, even if it's just for a few minutes. I guess that just goes to show you, he was just a dumb teenager at one point, and made some stupid, life altering decisions.

That doesn't matter now though. What matters, is mom. And the rest of us.

I'm not sure how many days it's been that she's been in hospice, I barely had a concept of time before, and now with all this, it's so boned. Last night, like really late, I was about to go to bed, a nurse from hospice called me, she said I should be there because mom had significant changes. So I dressed for the first time that day, and drove to the hospice center. Most of the family was there when I got there, a few others made arrivals shortly after mine.  
Her eyes popped open and stayed that way for a while, it happened during her bath. Then she was having trouble breathing, bad problems. However, when I got there, it appeared normal, just a slight hitch where none existed prominently before. I stayed only for an hour, I wanted to be up early the next day. It was after one that I left. I was to be up at seven, a mere six hours later. I got roughly five hours of sleep, and took a monster with me to the lobby of the campus. I only had one class to go to, but I had a week's worth of work for my online class and that week's activity for the class of the day. It took me about three hours to do all the work. As I was nearing the end, one of my partners came and sat with me. We talked little, about possibly hanging out on Saturday if things went well. I vented somewhat, he mostly nodded, I don't blame him, I get angry, and in such cases there isn't much that can be said by another.

The time for our class came and our other partner was in that class too. They sat together, but I sat alone on the opposite side of the room. We traded a few jokes before class though. Things appear good between us, despite the lack of hanging out lately. I can only wish things will remain, I'm just very much a creature of habit, I like routine, I like knowing what I'm going to be doing day-to-day and sticking to that. I have come to understand such cannot always be the case, and so I have become more adaptable but sometimes it is too much and I need that routine. But I am trying to be more adaptable. They're both such good people..., I really do love them, I want them to have their dreams, even if I'm not there to share in those joys, I want those things for them. They deserve it.

I spent a few minutes with them after class, expressing the desire to possibly hang out tomorrow, after class, if our schedules permit. I had to head to hospice. Shelly wanted me to tell mum that it's okay. Personally, I don't see a point in that. But to appease, I will. She's gonna clear everyone out so I can be alone to do so. Upon arriving, I first take off my coat, before going to the bathroom. After I finish in there, I come back to the room.

Shelly and I converse quietly, for a few minutes before she begins to shoo every out, so that I can be alone and talk to mom.

I sit in a chair by the window for a few minutes after everyone has cleared out. I'm really unsure of what I want to say other than what I've been told I need to. As I've expressed, I really have nothing to say. I surprise myself however, as once I get up, standing beside her bed, one hand on the rail, a speech all but pours from my lips.

"Hey mom, I know you know what I think about this shit. But, it's okay. If you need to go, go. We'll be fine. I've told you this countless times, but you have to live for yourself, even if living means dying. At the end of the day, you can only live for yourself. You can't live for anyone else, but yourself. Yeah, I get it, people matter to you, but at the end of the day, you're the one that has to do what's right for you."

I take a breath here.  
For some reason, emotion washes over me, I take a deep breath before continuing.

"You're a good person, a really good person. I'm not, and that's not your fault. It is what it is. I think you were a true Hufflepuff, and I'm..., well I'm a true Slytherin. That's not good or bad, it just is. We fit those roles pretty well. It's not your fault, you tried your best. You did what you could. You're a better person than I'll ever be. And that's okay. I see the world differently, and so do you. I can see through all the bullshit. You can too, in a different way though. You took what you saw and used it to help people. I take it and just let it exist, unless it affects people I care for or it's something I believe in strongly. There's a lot wrong with the world. You helped so many people. It's okay mom, it's okay to go. I swear. We'll move on. I know I haven't been the best son, but I'm just myself, just as you're yourself. It is what it is. And as I said, it's okay. Do as you must. I understand. I always have. You're a good woman, so do as you need to for yourself, not others. For once, be selfish. It's okay."

I step away, wiping tears that have come unbidden. I suppose maybe there was some truth to my friend telling me I was repressing stuff. Weird, it doesn't feel like I am.  
I text Shelly to let them know they can come back whenever.  
Hungry, I browse the various items atop the mini-fridge, settling upon some blueberry loaf cake. It's delicious and barely crumbly, very good quality. When the others re-enter, I'm sitting in the chair by the window again. They putter around the room, talking to mom, announcing their presence. Shelly offers me some of my favorite snack, that I never get because I don't go down the snack aisle, buttery toffee popcorn with peanuts. It sounds strange, but it's actually really good, and I'm a picky person when it comes to food.

I munch away for a few minutes, not wanting to eat all of it, despite being assured it would be fine if I did. I replace the box before retaking my seat, I put earbuds in my ears, using my phone to play my Spotify playlist of random good songs, it's only a few hundred deep, so it doesn't encompass everything I like, just what I've been into recently.  
I'm in my own little world mostly, still hungry, but not wanting to eat the stuff that's there for the family who is staying pretty much all the time at hospice. There's food at home, I can wait til I get there and reheat some pizza. I'll be fine. I don't want to be here, I would rather be with my partners or alone. But my presence has been requested so I need to stay for a few hours. I sigh, looking down at the floor, I understand their reasoning but that doesn't mean I agree. I'm an adult for fuck's sake. But as I said, I do understand, and given that apparently I do feel something, I should probably deal with that. I have no idea how to though, death is death. It comes for us all. Hers just so happens to be when she's finally doing things she enjoys.

And it is, what it is. But that doesn't mean I can't feel something about it. And I know that. But that doesn't mean I know what I should be doing. I'm in therapy, I go see her at the end of the week. I guess I'll need to bring this shit up with her.  
I grumble to myself, not aloud, but still. But I will do as I need to, I always do.


	5. Chapter 5

It happened yesterday evening. I was out, working, when Shelly called me. It sounded like she had been crying.

"I... I don't wanna tell you think over the phone..."

I interrupted her, "Do I need to stop working and come to hospice?"

"Y-yeah. That would be good."

"Okay. I will. Be there in like 10."

I hung up the call and with slight difficulty, ended my current work day. With that finished, I put the hospice into my GPS and drove over the speed limit in most cases. When I got there, I was greeted by various family members standing outside mom's room.  
"She's gone, kiddo," one of them told me.

I only nodded, going into the room. Various family members were in the room, crying over mom's body. I said nothing but Shelly immediately approached me.

"I didn't want to tell you over the phone, but she's gone." She pulled me into a hug, crying still.

I returned the hug with indifference. I had already guessed as much on the drive over. I had expected this, more or less. They, however, were acting as though they had not guessed this outcome.  
Over the next two hours, more family and friends showed up. Most, cried. I had no real reaction. As I expressed, I had seen this coming.

Shelly, I, and a few others were involved in the funeral home stuff, as we waited and whatnot for them to come. I was bored, moderately annoyed I couldn't leave as I was socially bound to be there.

Eventually though, Shelly and I went back to the old house. I hung out there for a little while with her, but eventually, I went back to campus, I had class in the morning after all.

The next morning, I woke at seven, as usual. I laid there, in bed for a while, playing on my phone before finally getting up and dressed. I went to class early, getting there before the professor even. I sat down and tried to do research for my Literature essay, but I couldn't find what I was looking for. With a sigh of frustration, I gave up and paid attention to the class that had just started.

It was a very boring time, but I finished my homework as I sat in the class. Easy. Boring. Probably wasn't going to do very well in that class, honestly. But I really didn't care. It just wasn't interesting in the slightest. My other three classes were interesting as fuck though. Balancing them, work, and a social life, plus the shit with mom, was fucking difficult though.  
Regardless, I would manage. I always do.

It's not all darkness, I've got my next tattoo scheduled for early March, a mere two and a half weeks away. I can't wait for it. I'm slightly nervous for it though, as it's going on my leg. I've heard varying things about getting it there, and I'm not sure what to believe. I mean, I know everyone's different but still.

Regardless of that, we're going tomorrow afternoon to talk to the funeral home people. Shelly and some family went and got a plot at the cemetery for mom today.  
I'm going to study at the library for a few hours then go to the grocery for some things for Shelly and myself at the dorm.

I finally find a place in the back of the library where I can plug in my phone and tablet. I take out the books I'll need and open the first one. It's interesting but I'm really, really tired. I sit there and read, starting to nod off, before shaking myself awake and continuing to read. Finally, I finish the chapter and open my tablet. After getting it connected to the internet at the library, I refresh the school's page and log back in. I open my school email and fetch the name I need to finish my earlier homework assignment then email myself that document to print thursday morning. After that, I clear out the duplicate emails that were sent by my professor. With that done, I looked at my online class. I hoped some people had posted in the weekly discussion so I could reply and be done with that class for the week.  
Thankfully, they had and I replied and finished that assignment.

After that, I packed up my things and left the library, going to the store. It was moderately busy, and people gave me strange looks as I loaded my cart with two to three months worth of soda for myself. I paid them no mind, really, and went to get the few other items on my list. I ended up splurging a little and getting myself a gallon of chocolate milk and another pack of Mike's Hard Lemonade. I had two six packs, three screwdrivers still left, and then my emergency six pack still. Needless to say, my minifridge was packed.  
It was whatever though, I was happy. I had some extra cash, and I wanted to use it as I saw fit.

I was going to drink and game tonight. I didn't have to be up early for once, so I was going to stay up late. I'm going to party up with Kenny and maybe Cartman after dinner.

An hour passes, and I've finally finished my dinner. It was good, I just kept getting distracted by texts. Now though, to decide what to play. I dunno, none of them seem interesting right now. With a sigh, I flop down on to my bed and listen to Kenny and Cartman talk about nonsense.  
I told them about mom yesterday, they weren't really treating me differently, at least, not noticeably. I sigh, flicking over to the games and apps section of the xbox. Trying to decide on a game, I had like fifty to choose from, not like I didn't have games, it was just a matter of choosing one. I couldn't decide, so I just switched to the Spotify app and began listening to music.


	6. Chapter 6

I woke up as normal, it was seven. Today was the day we were going to put mom's body in the ground. It was an annoying and pointless affair that I had to dress nicely for. I lazed about most of the morning, I didn't have to leave until around 9:30. I played Warframe during that time, before finally going to shower and dress. I wore a pair of nice old work pants and my black button up shirt I'd worn to my senior prom. I combed my hair and brushed my teeth, cleaning my lip ring too. With all of that finished, I gathered my dirty clothes from the floor and returned to my room. Once there, I found my shoes, they weren't nice, just my standard black DCs. I didn't own dress shoes. If the rest of the family wanted to bitch, that was their problem, not mine. The entire morning was a pain, but I piled into the car with the rest of the family when it was time.

Once we arrived at the funeral home, I had to sign some papers, about the bill and whatnot.  
Slowly, people started arriving after about an hour. Most of the family was crying, but I, still largely felt nothing in particular.

Kenny showed up and kept me company for about an half hour, before he had to leave. I didn't mind, it was good to see him. He expressed his condolences, but we didn't hug, as he knew how I feel about such things.

At last, came the time to sit down while a clergyman talked about mom, as if he knew her. I tried, to keep my face blank, but I rolled my eyes so often it started to fucking hurt. Everyone that attended, was a fucking mess. People that I knew, hated me, were annoyingly kind. The expectation for me to feel something was pressing on me, like a physical weight, but I still didn't show any real emotion towards the proceedings.

When we went to the gravesite, there were more bullshit prayers and shit, and then she was lowered down. I opted to go with her boyfriend, the man she had been engaged to and his child. I couldn't stand to be around my family any longer. They filled me with too much rage.

The rest of that day, was uneventful really. It felt the same as any other. Everyone kept expecting me to have this breakdown or something, but I was stoic, as usual.  
I cried when my pets died, Sparky, especially. They had seen me cry over grandpa, but that wasn't me, that was their emotions projected onto me. What they don't get, what they never will, is that it ended long before we put her in the ground. I'm tired of trying to get them to see I'm not who they think I am. I just fucking tired.

Everyone, my friends, my relatives, they're all expecting me to have like this big reaction or something. I can see it in their faces, in their tones, in what they do. But I'm not one for such things. You'd really fucking think, after 22 years, they would know that shit by now. But they don't get it. And being around them, with all their goddamn sadness and prayers bullshit, is just pissing me the fuck off. I'm so glad, I live on campus. I have no reason to return there now. Time will tell what the future holds for me.


	7. Chapter 7

It's been just over a month since she's officially been dead. It'll have been a month tomorrow, that we've buried her. She was dead the 27th though, when it all happened. I know that, but everyone else kept stupidly hoping and praying. I can't understand that type of thing. There is a line between science and faith. On that day and those that followed, I believe we saw that line. Even if they won't acknowledge it.  
My anger, towards them, has faded slightly. I'm still angry at their stupidity, but it is what it is.

I'm still doing fine. Just as I always was. Really, my life seems to be looking up. I'm more or less emotionally stable. I have a job that's well enough, I'm in college.

Mom died. The woman that gave me birth.  
I'm still angry at her. For doing that. Birthing me. I never asked for this life. Obviously, it can't truly be undone. That's anger I'll likely always have, until I too, perish. But I'm fine with that. I don't care.  
I'm supposed to feel something, aren't I? I don't though, not really. I mean, I see her name in my conversations and I don't think much of it, just sort of "Oh..." and then continue scrolling. I know not everyone sees it that way. I can see it in their eyes, hear it in their voices.  
She knew how I felt about her. I was honest, as she raised me to be. I know she never truly accepted all the things I am. And that's fine. Because I am, who I am. I will not change, for anyone or anything.  
Some people don't get that, they don't understand. They definitely don't understand how I can feel fine with not having said "I love you" to her in years. She raised me to be honest with her, and so I was. I did not say those words to her because they would be empty. I am grateful to her for what she did, but that does not equal feeling love for her. She did her best, yes, but that doesn't mean I have to love her for all she did. To many, I may seem disrespectful, but I am honest. I rarely lied to her, at least, not about serious things. Small things, sure, but nothing that was important, like matters of love. She was a very good woman, but still, I would not say I loved her. Because I did not, I do not. I am, indifferent towards her. Angry, yes, but largely, indifferent.

I know, most people, will not understand this, they may even turn to hating me for it. But I cannot change what is.  
I am a bastard, in all connotations of the word. I understand this. I accept it. I do not regret anything regarding her. What happened, happened, it cannot be altered.  
Maybe I am a shit son, I don't really care. Why would I? Both parents may as well be dead. I know one is, the other, may as well be.

I have found a new family, her boyfriend and his son. My friends, some of which, I love as family. But those related to me by blood? The majority I cannot stand, and the few I can, know who they are and that they are the ones I care for. However, if they do come to hate me, I do not blame them for it. I understand, as always.

Society dictates, that I should care. That I should spend days to months, in mourning for my dead mother. It is a societal expectation. It is an expectation that I feel something. But I do not. Not consciously. I do not have dreams about it, my sleep is as it usually is. My school work does not suffer either.  
Singing along to "Adam's Song" by Blink-182 did make my voice crack, but it doesn't matter really. It was a moment, but it is not all-consuming or anything. Is it bad..., that I do not feel anything? I believe I have made my peace with it. I have spoken to my therapist about it, and she only says that if I feel the need to talk about it, we can, but as I do not really feel that need, we do not.

I chafe, beneath all these societal expectations. I am sick of them. It is yet another reason why, I tire of this life.  
And yes, I have considered it. I can imagine it. I have what I need to do it. But I have been told, it would be selfish of me to do it. They cry "What about me?" and I reply, "You will be fine". I won't say it is not tempting, if only because I'm tired of being angry and desolate. So maybe, I will. At some point. I mean, I will, at some point, though I haven't decided when that will be yet. It lingers, there, it is a good probability, an appealing one too. But it would be misread, I know that. Because they cannot see the underlying reality. They see only what they want to.

I'm tired. I'm angry. But what else is new?

We thought, it would never happen to us. Something like that. But it did. It did, and it has left most everyone changed. Except me. I'm the same. Cynical, nihilistic, asshole. I'm not a good person, she was though.

My mother, was a good woman. Her death was unexpected. But now, we must move on. Live our lives. We cannot change it. Time, marches ever forward.


End file.
